Green Postcards: Big Changes, Tiny Farms

September is Organic Harvest Month and a great time to travel, after summer's crowds recede. But in many a seaside resort, where the fish and vegetables have been flown across continents and seas, such generic food adds up to nostalgia for New York City takeout.

Recently, though, my husband and I got lucky in two places where restaurateurs are buying from local organic farms.

Los Cabos, Baja California, Mexico

One&Only Palmilla, a cluster of graceful whitewashed haciendas spread to either side of a rocky point on Baja's desert coast, is an all-inclusive luxury resort we left only to go surfing. Certainly we had no desire to eat anywhere but at Palmilla's three restaurants-- Agua, Breeze and "C"-and on the terrace of our villa, overlooking a Sea of Cortez awash in luminous mist that made small fishing pangas appear to hover in mid-air.

We dined at "C," named for Charlie Trotter, the Chicago chef renowned for sourcing local foods, on a tasting menu: miniature portions of Mexican fish, meats, fruits and vegetables, with wines chosen to match. Most of the produce, we learned from Monica Ortiz, director of guest relations, was locally grown by family farms near San Jose del Cabo, a 20-minute drive inland. She introduced me to Guillermo Tellez, chef de cuisine, who worked at Charlie Trotter's in Chicago for more than 14 years. "All my main vegetables pretty much grow here," Tellez said. "I pay the same money for baby lettuces and other microgreens that I would pay in the States. They also do tiny vegetables--baby carrots, turnips, eggplants--and basil, fennel, heirloom tomatoes." He buys seafood straight off the pangas from a local fishermen's association.

All of the produce is certified organic, Tellez said, pointing out that these standards are a natural fit. "This area is very protected. The land has never been touched by diseases. And the farmers here don't believe in genetically engineered corn or tomatoes." The farmers have now started selling to other hotels as well.

Hawaii

Ravenous on the island of Kauai after a surf session and a slow drive along the two-lane main highway, we discovered that the restaurant where we'd planned to lunch was closed. Wandering the hot streets of old Hanapepe town, we chanced upon Da Imu Hut Café. There we sat down to a traditional Hawaiian meal: kalua pig (the imu is the covered hole in the ground where it's roasted on hot coals), lau lau pork (steamed in taro greens), or lomi lomi salmon (in an onion-and-tomato ceviche), haupia (rice pudding, order in advance) and poi, the starchy gray-pink-purple paste made from taro root. All for $6.75. The taro and pig were produced upstream in Waimea Valley, said Marlene Barino, one of the café owners, who explained that Da Imu Hut is part of an island-wide food network of restaurateurs who patronize small farms.